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If Carrie Bradshaw and her “Sex and the City” cohorts ever felt lonely in their single-gal lives, at least it was because they actually lived alone. But in Amy Sohn’s new chick-lit tome “Prospect Park West,” which hits stores Sept. 1, once-glamorous city lasses still feel abandoned. Only now they’re isolated in loveless marriages, raising kids they resent.

The book has already been optioned by HBO and Sarah Jessica Parker’s production company. The story, which focuses on four stroller moms, from Brooklyn’s Park Slope, is touted as fodder for “SATC: The Next Generation.”

On the surface, “Prospect Park West” sounds a lot like its predecessor. The four women, all between 30 and 40, are obsessed with real estate, careers, sex, marriage and babies. Their borough is like another character on the show. But “Sex and the City” presented NYC as a glamorous playground where Cosmo-swilling, Manolo-wearing singles had steamy affairs and analyzed break-ups over brunch. “Prospect Park West” paints a grim picture of brownstone Brooklyn as the home of urban Stepford Wives — neurotic mommies who don’t enjoy sex with their husbands.

Welcome to Sexless and the Slope.

“Motherhood was high school for unemployed people. It was impossible to make friends with Park Slope mothers,” writes Sohn, who herself is a mother and lives in Park Slope. “If they weren’t asexual fatties, they were earth mamas who breast-fed till 7.”

Unlike nights out in the Meatpacking District with Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte, this scene is unlikely to inspire thousands of girls to make a beeline to New York. The moms in “PPW” aren’t even friends. When their paths do cross, they seduce each other, stalk each other or sleep with each other’s husbands. None come out better for having met.

Rebecca Rose, 32, is a freelance writer with a hot body and a cold maternal side. Picture Samantha Jones shackled with a kid and a husband. “In the early throes of love, you complimented each other,” remembers Rebecca. “Then you got married and spent the rest of your years hurling insults and complaints. Marriage was disappointment verbalized.”

Rebecca’s jealous of daughter Abbie for hogging her architect husband’s attention. Who can blame her? They haven’t had sex since Abbie was born — 16 months ago.

Neurotic Karen Bryan Shapiro — who drops the “Shapiro” when introducing herself to a finicky co-op board — dresses her 4-year-old son in kneepads at the playground and douses him in Purell every time he touches something.

For Karen, who sports a short “mom haircut” and never shed 20 pounds of baby weight, sex is a means to an end. She’s only interested when her cervical mucus is “egg-white quality” and she’s at her most fertile.

“She knew he wasn’t thinking of her and tried not to worry about who he was thinking about. Right now the important thing was that he give up the goods,” she thinks during sex with her husband. Karen’s more excited by real estate porn and celebrities. But if she seems like a “Charlotte,” then she’s goody two-shoes gone off the deep end. She uses blackmail and break-ins to forge a “real” friendship with an A-list actress she spots in her yoga class.

Lizzie O’Donnell, 30, a former book publicist turned stay-at-home mom, is married to musician Jay, who constantly tours with his band. Lonely in Prospect Heights — a k a TooPoSlo (Too Poor for Park Slope) — Lizzie’s eyes wander to a hot playground mom and to a parent blog looking for swingers.

“Even though the sex with [Jay] was good, it felt distant from the scenarios [Lizzie] imagined while they were doing it, which usually involved some combination of women, men and wolves,” writes Sohn.

Even the two-time Oscar-winning actress Melora Leigh, who lives in a six-bedroom mansion on Prospect Park West, suffers from the same petty neuroses and bad sex as her plebe neighbors. Melora, a former child star who had her first period at 14 while bouncing on Mickey Rourke’s lap, pops so much Zoloft that she has no sex drive.

Melora fakes orgasms with husband Stuart and gets off instead on the thrill of stealing at the Park Slope Food Co-op, which she joins at the suggestion of her publicist.

She’s also immersed in neighborhood jealousies. At the food co-op orientation, Melora “was alarmed to spot Maggie Gyllenhaal in the front row, bouncing her daughter, Ramona, on her lap. Gyllenhaal and her boyfriend, Peter Sarsgaard, had bought a brownstone on Sterling Place six months after Melora closed on the mansion, and they had gotten way more press for their purchase than Melora had — because Gyllenhaal was pregnant at the time, and in part because her profile had soared after she said the US was responsible for 9/11.”

The one thing that ties the four women together is a hatred of domesticity and motherhood. “Melora missed her husband, though not her son,” Sohn writes of her fictional movie star, who adopted a boy from Ho Chi Minh City when she visited Vietnam as a UNICEF rep. When Melora sees women with a brood of children, she thinks “this was a neighborhood in which secular women aspired to a Hasidic lifestyle.”

Rebecca, for her part, “frequently felt that if she could only hand her motherhood to a woman who would appreciate it, everyone would be happier.” On hearing that Lizzie had a kid at the young age of 30, she huffs: “You could have postponed purgatory.”

Lizzie doesn’t argue the point: “She found [motherhood] less satisfying than she had hoped. It was completely isolating and yet you were never alone.” Karen has a hard time enjoying her son because she feels inadequate having just one kid.

In additional to drowning in matronly duties, Melora struggles with her career, hitting botton over drinks with a director at Saint Ambroeus. “I bummed a light from somebody last night and my hair caught on fire,” she explains. “You know why? Martinis and Ativan don’t go together! Ask Lilly Allen! Do you know what time I start drinking most days? Sometimes 11 a.m. I used to make myself wait till six at night. Then I moved it to five, and now I call it wine o’clock so I can start whenever I want.”

That’s before she unzips her jeans to prove to him that she’s a natural blonde.

Her husband almost leaves her after Melora lunges at Kate Hudson at a movie premiere, “trying to scratch her eyes out.” “You’re a very f – – ked up woman,” Lucy Liu huffs.

Back in the world of the common people, Lizzie and Rebecca find themselves with a couple, Andy and Alexandra, who try to seduce them at a Brooklyn bar. Alexandra puts the moves on Rebecca and forces her to dance. “Lizzie could see instantly that Alexandra wasn’t interested in women at all and was doing this only for Andy’s benefit. She felt sad for both of them.”

Sohn’s new novel is biting and dark. It makes you think that Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte made the right choice by staying single, childless, and in Manhattan for as long as possible.